The Seven Year Itch
by Mindy35
Summary: KIBBS AU. Gibbs never entirely gave up on the dream of Kate Todd. Final chapter up!
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Seven Year Itch

Author: MindyH

Rating: T, adult themes.

Spoilers: "Yankee White" "Sub Rosa".

Disclaimer: Characters are not my property. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: KIBBS AU (kinda), but I'm not going to spoil it. Just read and please review!

* * *

"_Who the hell do I need to take on to get access to this crime scene?_"

"That would be _me._"

His rant abruptly interrupted, Gibbs started, turning from the shuddering, young agent blocking his entrance towards the cool, clear voice coming from behind him. He'd know that crisp tone anywhere. It was more than familiar to him, and he turned mostly to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

He peered over his shoulder at her, before facing her fully and giving her a deliberate and shrewd once-over.

"You again," he grunted, bluntly, after a brief pause.

She tipped her head to one side. "And _you_ again," she countered, unimpressed. She glanced at the young man cowering behind her former boss, demanding sharply: "Mind telling me why you're harassing my agent for doing his job?"

"Just trying to do mine," he stated tersely, putting a finger under the plastic ID pouch that hung from her breast pocket and squinting at it exaggeratedly. "You in charge of this circus?" he mumbled, reading pointedly: "Special Agent in Charge…"

She straightened, unflinching: "I am."

"You gonna let me have my piece of the pie here?" he remarked, sternly, eyes glittering eagerly.

"What's your interest in this case?" she answered, tipping her chin at him and folding her arms across her chest.

"It was ours first," he informed her crossly.

"Very mature," she muttered, with a slight smirk.

He shuffled closer, bending his head over hers intently: "_You know_ I have a right to be here," he impressed upon her in a low voice.

She raised her eyebrows and glanced about at her crew, watching her interaction with the older agent with great interest and mild judgment. He knew she couldn't afford to be seen to be bullied in front of them.

"I think the FBI would disagree," she returned staunchly, not meeting his fixed, blue gaze. She'd forgotten what it was like to be scrutinized by him.

"I'm not asking the FBI, am I?" he murmured in a familiar tone, seemingly oblivious to anyone but the two of them and anything but getting his own way. As usual.

Her eyes flicked up to his, steely and sharp: "The physical evidence is ours," she told him firmly, then glanced to the side and admitted: "But…I could use your help on the investigation."

"I'll want copies of everything," he demanded, pulling out his trusty notepad.

"I assumed you would," she nodded coolly.

Gibbs smirked. "Then we have a deal," he replied lightly.

He caught the briefest flash of warmth and mirth in her dark eyes before her gaze dropped down and away from him. Their shoulders collided slightly as she moved past him and he took the opportunity to seize her hand. Her eyes rose to connect with his again as they shook hands for one drawn-out moment.

"It's good to see you again, Kate," he murmured quietly, leaning in close so that no one else could hear his intimate tone.

Kate gave him a brief, half-smile and squeezed his hand faintly. Then, pulling away, she entered the crime scene, yelling at the top of her lungs:

"Alright people! Time to get to work."

Gibbs grinned to himself and, striding past the terrified FBI sentry, followed her inside. He really didn't mind sharing an investigation with the FBI if it meant he got to work with Caitlin Todd again.

He hadn't seen her in seven years. But somehow she still excited him more than any woman he'd ever met.

* * *

TBC... 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Seven Year Itch

Author: MindyH

Rating: T, adult themes

Chapter 2.

* * *

Kate stood in front of her wardrobe in her underwear, examining her choices. She huffed loudly and planted her hands on her hips.

This would be a whole lot easier if she knew what she was dressing for. But both the invitation and the man who delivered it were so open to interpretation that she didn't know whether she was preparing for a business meeting or a hot date.

He'd taken her completely by surprise when he'd asked her. They'd been standing in the office where she used to work with him seven years ago. The busy squad room hadn't changed one bit except for the faces. Both DiNozzo and McGee were long gone, and the team he now watched over were young and green. Gibbs had packed them off to research something or other, leaving the two of them alone to discuss the original NCIS casefile.

"Well, I wanna talk to him," she'd told him decisively, snapping the dossier closed on Gibbs' prime suspect.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he'd replied, amusedly, turning and taking his seat: "You're no longer with NCIS, Agent, and this kid is under is _my_ jurisdiction."

She'd frowned at him and perched her hip on the corner of his desk: "Can't you get me in?"

"I can," he'd stated smugly, curling one hand against his mouth: "-- on one condition."

"What?" she'd prompted impatiently, fully expecting him to demand access to the FBI labs or something similar.

"Have dinner with me," he'd murmured lowly, his eyes roving over her and his mouth twitching upwards in the corners: "Tonight."

"Dinner?" she'd repeated dumbly, thrown off-guard.

"Dinner," he'd nodded, watching her closely.

Her eyes skimmed away from his. "Tonight?..." she'd ummed, hesitantly. She'd been planning on working that night and was frankly surprised that he hadn't also.

"Take it or leave it," he'd shrugged apathetically as she'd blinked at him in shock.

"Alright," she'd finally agreed, somewhat confused.

"I'll meet you at Sammie's at eight," he'd ordered, rising from his chair and heading swiftly for the back elevator: "And I'll arrange an interview for first thing in the morning." He'd stopped suddenly and added, as an after-thought: "I trust you can remember your way out."

She'd pursed her lips at him and turned on her heel, prancing away as he'd watched.

Gibbs had, on many occasions when they were working together, skated dangerously close to being inappropriate with her. And while it had occasionally made her feel uncomfortable, it had also been a secret pleasure of hers. She had always understood that Jethro Gibbs was old school; his type evolved before the sexual harassment fad and she knew he never meant any harm.

There had just always been that unique and intriguing sort of tension between them, whatever they did or did not do. She'd quickly learnt to live with and ignore it.

But he'd never been this bold with her. Back then, when she had such a massive crush on her grumpy, old boss, she would've thrilled at an opportunity like this. More than that, she would probably have sacrificed one of her fingers to be asked on a date by him. She'd fantasized countless times about what might occur if she could just be alone with him, off-duty, for one night, how much they might say and drink and learn.

But she was not the starstruck young girl she used to be. She was more wary now, more restrained. Gibbs had warned her about romance between agents all those years ago and, now she had evidence of her own to prove just how risky they could be.

She pulled out the red dress she really wanted to wear. She'd bought it the day she filed for divorce and had never worn it since trying it on in the very expensive boutique. It was sleek and silky and sexy, hiding and revealing just enough in all the right places. It positively screamed "_Woman on a Date_!"

She'd love to have Gibbs see her in this dress; see her as a woman and not just an agent. Years ago, she probably wouldn't have hesitated. Years ago, she wore lots of colors. But these days she seemed to live in standard blacks and whites and browns.

She sighed and hung the dress back up, thinking that for all she knew, this was just another business meeting and she would turn up to see Gibbs with a stack of files in front of him, primed to discuss his latest theory. She wouldn't put it past him.

Only Kate suspected that it wasn't the case he wished to investigate. It was her. She knew in her gut that what Gibbs really wanted from her was all the dirty details and she wasn't exactly sure how she felt about that.

* * *

TBC...

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Seven Year Itch

Author: MindyH

Rating: T, adult themes.

Chapter 3.

A/N: Thanks for all the feedback, it's really inspiring and rewarding to know that the tension is working. All will be revealed in time. There are ten chapters in all and here is the next. Please enjoy and please reveiw!

* * *

He was late, but that was probably a good thing. Didn't want to seem like he'd been looking forward to this all day.

He'd been buzzing excitedly since he'd asked her, since she'd accepted. Actually, he'd been buzzing since he'd seen her again yesterday. Something in his gut was screaming "FINALLY!"

Finally, he would get to be alone with Kate Todd again.

He'd thought Sammie's was a fairly safe choice. They used to hang out there after cases occasionally, back in the old days with DiNozzo and McGee and Abby. It was a casual joint that many used for business meetings and after-work drinks. Not too romantic or intimate. Not that that had stopped him in the past from having inappropriate thoughts about the attractive, young brunette under his command.

He remembered coming to Sammie's on Kate's thirtieth birthday for celebratory drinks and watching her get slowly smashed, enjoying the way she leaned on him and touched his arm and the way her eyes twinkled when she teased him. It was merely one of many lost opportunities he'd pondered in the years she'd been absent from his life.

They had not parted on the best of terms. Actually, their parting was somewhat anti-climatic and he'd often wondered whether he would ever hear from her or see her again.

He'd never actually known how much he cared about Kate Todd until someone stole her away. All of a sudden, she was gone before he'd had his chance with her --a chance he'd never considered his for the taking until much too late.

For the past seven years, Special Agent Bradley Hughes of the Federal Bureau of Investigation had been on his secret, personal hit list. Not only had he taken his Katie away to work for the FBI, he'd subsequently and swiftly married her. He'd never resented a man more.

Or been more envious.

Brad Hughes was everything he was not. Young, energetic, good-natured and friendly. He'd been there the day they'd met. They'd been investigating a double murder and had butted heads once more with the FBI over jurisdiction. The smooth, fair-haired agent had immediately taken a liking to Kate, but Gibbs had foolishly dismissed him as just one more in a line of her short-lived pretty boys.

Things had been extremely tense between him and Kate for some time anyway, but she'd positively knocked him on his ass when, four months into the relationship, she handed him her resignation. She told him that Brad had convinced her to accept a position with the FBI.

He couldn't believe it at first, thought she would reconsider. But he hadn't made any attempt to dissuade her. Instead he had done everything within his power to make sure she knew just how much he did not approve of her decision.

He still remembers the hurt look in her eyes, when he'd refused to say goodbye to her on her last day with their team. He would not let her know what she was doing to him, not when she was capable of so casually deserting him. It tore at the last remaining shreds of his heart to not be able to look her in the eye and wish her good luck, but he simply could not tolerate it.

He'd run and hid, like he always did. And by the time he came back, her desk was empty and she was gone. At the time, he'd thought it was for good.

He was shocked to receive word from her nine months later. But his stomach dropped when he opened the wedding invitation. He had no idea why she'd invited him, whether it had been a peace offering or polite gesture. All of her old team received one of the white and gold gilded cards from the soon-to-be Mrs Kate Hughes, but they seemed determined by tacit agreement not to talk about the impending event in front of him.

He conveniently forgot to RSVP and on the weekend of the wedding, he made damn sure that he had a case to work and plenty to occupy his mind. He still could've attended. He knew that Abby and McGee, DiNozzo and Ducky put in an appearance.

But the thought of watching Kate walk down an aisle in a white dress towards another man, the thought of that man beaming at her, kissing her, owning her; the thought of speeches and well-wishes and music and cake; the thought of having to construct something sincere to tell her and her new husband made his skin crawl and his skull burn.

Kate Todd never seemed so lost to him as she did on that sad, spring day.

But he adjusted to life without her pretty easily. He'd had a lot of practice at letting women he loved go. He knew just how to treat a wounded heart. Work, work and more work, and when that ran out, there was always his boat.

Shortly after the wedding, he'd been in Abby's lab when she'd had photos of the wedding up on her computer. Curiosity had over-whelmed him and he couldn't resist a glimpse. He only saw one, before Abby interrupted, but he'd carried the image in his mind for years.

It was of Kate, and only Kate, in a long, ivory dress, standing against the deep green of a large hedge. It was a candid shot, catching her mid-laughter, her body leaning over slightly, her head bowed and eyes lowered, a vibrant clutch of flowers held close to her breast. The train of the dress was sleek and pale against the lush backdrop in contrast to her dark hair swept up from her shining face. She looked beautiful.

He'd kept an eye out for her, whenever he encountered the FBI, he'd always expected to see her, but this was the first time their paths had ever crossed again. He'd heard about her separation last year, care of Ducky who seemed to think he would like to know. And while he couldn't help a little satisfaction, the power of his compassion for his former colleague surprised him.

For the first time, he'd started to consider contacting her, just to see if she was alright. Somehow despite all his best efforts and her lengthy absence, his feelings for Kate Todd had never fully died or even diminished.

He stepped inside Sammie's and out of the cold, pausing on the threshold and scanning the area cursorily. The dim joint, with its long row of deep, leather booths and an untidy cluster of circular wooden tables and chairs, had never changed in all the time he'd been coming here.

He spotted her immediately, sitting at the bar, just like she'd never left. She was perched impeccably on a barstool, wearing a professional but elegant black dress and black heels, both of which displayed her long arms and legs to greater advantage than she was probably aware. Her figure was still slender and feminine, but her face had thinned somewhat, he noticed from afar. Having lost the last vestiges of adolescent roundness, now her features were all well-defined curves and neat angles.

Her gaze wandered aimlessly as she absently drummed manicured nails against the bar, completely oblivious to the smile the bartender offered her when he placed her drink on a napkin in front of her. She lifted it with her right hand and took a small sip, tucking her hair behind her ear with her left. He watched the movement with interest, noting the absence of any ring on her finger and admiring the way her hair, now a slightly lighter, redder brown and cut to just above her shoulders, curled softly against her neck.

His heart quickened unexpectedly as he made his way towards her, even as warning lights were flashing madly in the back of his brain. This whole situation could turn very dangerous, very, very fast.

She sensed him before he reached her, turning toward him with a slightly uncertain smile.

"Hey," he greeted casually, nodding to Jim behind the bar who immediately began to pour his chosen poison.

"Hey," she responded, smoothing one hand over the lap of her dress.

"Nice dress," he commented, coolly, as he reached for his glass.

He permitted his greedy eyes to drift over her every inch, above the rim of his glass as he slowly drank the smooth scotch. He watched the color of her cheeks darken somewhat in response to his too direct, too lingering appreciation.

"You look great," he mumbled lowly, enjoying her reaction, while desperately trying to control his own.

Kate blinked at him in surprise for a moment, but recovered swiftly: "Thank you," she murmured softly.

"Let's get a table," he suggested, abruptly breaking the awkward silence that descended and looking about.

Kate hopped down off her stool to follow him, but her heel skidded and he turned back just in time to stop her tumbling to the floor. She grabbed onto his jacket instinctively, his hand moving to clasp her waist securely. Her body brushed along his just faintly, her scented hair waving beneath his nose, and he had to stifle the low groan that arose from his body at the smell and feel of her softness. His other hand gripped her elbow, lifting her back onto her feet.

"You okay?" he asked, peering at her lowered face.

"Fine," she whispered, sweeping her hair out of her eyes and stepping away gingerly: "Let's get a table."


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The Seven Year Itch

Author: MindyH

Chapter: 4

See part one for disclaimer and spoilers etc.

* * *

"So, what happened?"

Kate looked up, her head spinning weakly with the movement. She'd had too many drinks to be having this conversation. They both had. She swirled the ice in her once again empty glass. She'd finished yet another and had lost count of how many that now made.

They weren't exactly drunk but Gibbs had plied her with enough drink to significantly loosen her tongue and diminish her reserve. She pushed the glass forward, watching the condensation make a wet path across the wood.

They'd done away with the small talk fairly quickly, like where McGee and Tony were now and what they were up to. They briefly discussed the case before Gibbs had promptly turned more personal.

She hadn't gone into this with a particular approach in mind. And she hadn't actually decided how honest she wanted to get with her former boss. But his purposeful gaze and persistent questions were slowly undoing the last of her fledgling reticence.

But then, she never could lie to him anyway. Even now, there was no one she trusted more and the alcohol she'd willingly ingested only provided ample justification for her to indulge the sort of personal attention she had always craved from him but rarely received.

"I could blame it on work," she replied quietly after a long pause.

Gibbs hummed slightly and waited for her to continue. Kate lowered her gaze to the tabletop, tracing the wet trail of condensation with the tip of one finger.

"But that would only be half the truth," she admitted slowly.

Gibbs put his head to one side: "What would be the rest?"

She met his eyes briefly and shrugged vaguely, reflecting on her spouse of six years and feeling her eyes threaten to tear. Occasionally that still happened -- not often -- but something about Gibbs' tone and eyes affected her acutely. She quickly squelched the emotion before it took hold.

"I guess…" she began, shaking herself and taking a deep breath. She rested her elbows on the table, clasping her palms together before continuing with a voice that faltered: "Truth is, Brad and I never… _really_ loved each other."

She couldn't meet Gibbs' eyes when she spoke. It had been painful enough just to acknowledge that simple truth to herself when she finally filed for divorce, let alone someone whose opinion mattered to her so much.

"Not truly…" she added distantly with a wistful sigh: "Not -- not enough,"

Kate had convinced herself, in hindsight, that whatever issues of money and work and children and family she and Brad had could have been resolved if their love had been stronger. She couldn't even fully fathom the magnitude of her own extreme regret in confessing to her family, to her friends, to herself and to this man in front of her that she had simply and stupidly married the wrong man.

Gibbs sighed heavily: "It's not an easy thing to admit," he murmured carefully.

She met his eyes finally and unreservedly, wondering if he was speaking from his own experience: "No, it's not," she replied, softly resolute.

He shifted closer, leaning towards her from across the table: "He's a fool," he muttered, grimly. He gave a slight shake of his head, his eyes probing her features. "You know that?" he continued, his tone casual but compelling: "To let you go so easy… he's got to be…. one very stupid sonavabitch."

Kate smiled uncertainly; it was a back-handed sort of compliment, but a compliment nonetheless and it affected her, coming from this man, more than she would have anticipated. She knew Gibbs never approved of her relationship with Brad and that he never understood her decision to leave NCIS.

She knew also that she was very much altered to the woman he used to know. But he spoke to her just the same, looked at her, if possible, with even more interest and feeling. Gibbs still saw something in her that she thought she'd lost and all of her most natural reactions to him were as profound and exciting as they had been when they'd first met.

"Are you…" she shook her head, looking down at her hands resting on the tabletop.

Gibbs leaned forward to hear her, his own large hands clasped together over the deep mahogany, sitting just an inch from her own.

She glanced up from under her lashes at him: "Are you flirting with me, Gibbs?" she asked, shyly.

"No," he answered, immediately with a faintly indignant tone of voice.

She searched his face for a moment and realized he'd honestly meant what he'd said, he wanted her to know that, and didn't know if anyone had told her so. She smiled again, thoughtfully, then picked up her glass and tipped the melted ice into her throat.

"You were right…" she murmured, leaning back in her seat.

"Hmm?" he questioned, sitting back also, the leather booth creaking with his body's movement.

"Romance between agents…" she reminded him, resting her swirling head back against the dark leather seat.

Gibbs' eyes studied her for a moment and she did not shirk his gaze. There was no point in pretending that the Kate Todd, who, years before, had challenged him on his statement about mixing professional and personal relationships, even existed now. As much as she wished different.

Gibbs opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to reconsider: "I'll get you another drink," he muttered, swiping her glass and his and heading quickly towards the bar.

* * *

TBC... Thanks for reading and especially reviewing! M. 


	5. Chapter 5

Title: The Seven Year Itch

Author: MindyH

Chapter: 5

See part one for disclaimer etc.

* * *

And _now_, she was drunk.

He'd got her there and felt very little remorse at having achieved it. Gibbs was sorry to see that Kate Todd had changed quite a lot, in the intervening years— he'd recognized it the moment he clapped eyes on her again.

She was still beautiful, still strong and engaging, but her manner was more guarded, her eyes a little dull. Something had shattered her confidence, someone had broken her heart. The last traces of the girlishness which he used to find so exasperating had vanished entirely and in their place was the distrustful shield of a woman who had been hurt too much.

She needed a drink. She needed a friend. She needed someone who remembered who she really was. Suddenly, with just a little gin and tonic, the woman he used to know began to appear again.

The Kate Todd he used to know, had eyes that sparkled, a voice that smoldered and a laugh for every day of the week. His particular favorites had been the dark snigger, which frequently emerged at DiNozzo's expense; the gently amused chuckle, which he often received on telling her something like that scotch keeps you warm but doesn't cost you a house.

Presently, she was employing his other favorite, the openly, girly giggle. He couldn't help but smile in response, despite not knowing what had made her laugh in the first place. He didn't care. The sound of her laughter, the light in her eyes was worth the emptiness in his wallet, after he'd paid for her meal and drinks.

He had come into this with a very simple but specific strategy. First, he'd get her drunk, then he'd get her talking. He had a long list of questions which he'd wanted to raise for some time, including why she'd left NCIS and his team in the first place. What had Bradley Hughes offered her that was so damn irresistible? Also he longed to know in minute detail the reason for their recent breakup; what had caused the demise of her marriage to the FBI's fair-haired boy.

He knew he really had no right to ask -- but Kate had meet his curiosity with candor, and while he hadn't received the full story, what he got from her was her most sincere and meaningful response. With that, he had to be content.

And he was. In her company again, he found he wasn't so obsessed with the why's and who's and when's, he was merely interested in _her _and in the pull that he once more felt stretching between them just as it always had done.

He leaned in again, watching her laugh, noticing for the second time how close his hands were to hers. All night he'd been wanting to reach out and take her hand, stroke the skin of her wrist which looked so soft or run his thumb over the inside of her palm.

The heat that he felt flickering between them was even more potent than he remembered. He'd wondered over the years, whether he'd imbued her with more quality and power that she'd actually had, whether he'd imagined the connection they'd shared.

Apparently not, he mused privately, feeling his body thrill in response to her nearness. It was more real than he could bear.

Back when he first knew her, he never would've admitted it to himself, never would've indulged the thoughts (for long) that he was now entertaining. Thoughts of taking Caitlin Todd home and discovering some other sounds she might be capable of making, exploring the skin of not just her hands, proving to her just how insane Bradley Hughes had been to let her out of his life.

In the past, he never felt like he had the right or stamina to offer Kate Todd anything much. Professionally, he could make her into a great agent, a force to be reckoned with, he could help her fulfill her enormous potential.

That, he could give her. That, she would accept.

Anything more they may have separately dreamt of was categorically forbidden. He'd driven her away, out of fear, not knowing just how much he'd been hurting both of them, and not realizing until too late, how far away from him she would actually be pushed.

To say he regretted it was a massive understatement.

Strangely enough, it was only now that Kate Todd had grown up a little, and now that her heart had been broken, that he felt like he could offer her something much more than in the beginning.

Kate's laughter receded as she realized she was being observed by his dark, direct gaze. Her eyes gleamed with merriment as she planted her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. Her lips were still moist from drink, and her cheeks slightly flushed as she leant across the table towards him. He leant in closer too.

"Gibbs…" she breathed, after a long, long pause that throbbed with possibility. She averted her eyes briefly licking her lips as he watched every movement she made and waited for her to speak.

"You ever wonder…" she began hesitantly: "what might have happened…"she whispered, looking up at him: "if I hadn't joined NCIS?"

His brow creased as he looked at her, reading the real question in her eyes: "Between you and me, you mean?" he asked carefully.

She nodded faintly, her eyes wide and wondering. He thought back to when he first encountered her younger version aboard Air Force One and what a strange and intense meeting it had been.

"Maybe," he began, indecisively: "…maybe I would never have seen you again."

Her glowing expression seemed to recede somewhat. He saw a little flicker of disappointment in the back of her eyes and a dullness appear in her face again.

"Maybe," she admitted softly, her eyes still holding his, hoping for something more.

Gibbs shifted as close as the table would allow him, summoning his nerve. He hesitated before plunging in, not sure whether he was up to the challenge, whether he really knew how to do this anymore.

"Or maybe," he added, his voice strained and husky: "a few nights later… when I'd worked up the guts…." He shrugged, his voice deceptively casual: "I would've called you."

Her eyes opened a little wider, the fire deep within flaring again as she searched her mind for a response. And he could tell from her eyes that she'd thought about it too.

She tipped back her head slightly: "How would you have got my number?" she asked, quietly challenging.

He grinned slowly: "I have my ways."

Her mouth turned up in response: "And what would you have said?" she murmured, liltingly.

Gibbs took a breath, willingly his heart to slow. The way she was looking at him was making him loose all his words. Flirting with Kate Todd was easier than he thought – all he had to do was be completely honest.

"I would have said…" he rumbled, thinking as he spoke: "that I wanted to take you out to dinner. Get you drunk and have you tell me everything there is to know about Caitlin Todd and how she got here."

Kate's lips parted softly, as her breathing increased noticeably. Her cheeks darkened beguilingly again as her eyes flicked back and forth between his.

"What would you have said?" he asked impatiently, hoping he wasn't reading her wrong.

She breathed in, pursing her lips for a moment, then replying softly: "I probably would have called you an immoral and demanding bastard." Her eyes glowed at him shyly for a moment before dropping downwards: "Right before I jumped at the offer," she admitted, with a slightly amused intonation.

He smiled: "And then what?" he asked, wanting to know how much she'd thought about this, how far she'd carried the fantasy. The very idea that she had thought about it too -- _about them_ -- that she'd wanted exactly what he had, all that time ago, while not a huge surprise to him, sent him nearly mad with want.

He watched closely as she bowed her head so that he could smell her shampoo again, just like he had at the bar, when he'd felt her body through her clothes.

"Then," she mused, running a finger around the rim of her glass: "I would've worn something ….very red and very sexy." She looked at him again, telling him in a candid voice that both faltered and smoldered: "And I would've hoped like hell that you kissed me before the night was over."

He wanted to kiss her now. He wanted nothing more than to just get rid of this heavy table sitting between them, push her down onto the leather and finally taste her mouth, touch her body, make her sigh. Instead, he reached out with one finger to graze over her thumb using a light touch.

"I would've, Katie," he answered, thickly, his heart pounding in his chest with excitement.

If Kate Todd had not joined NCIS, he knows he would not have had the strength to let her just walk away. He would have found some way to be with her again, even if it meant exposing himself to feelings he'd spent a long time trying to avoid.

If Kate Todd had never joined NCIS; if she had worn that red dress and let him take her to dinner, there would have been nothing that could've stopped him kissing her before the night was over.

He would have done that -- and so much more.

Her eyes fluttered faintly as his finger continued to stroke her skin: "God, why didn't you?" she breathed shakily.

"Because," he began and faltered. He cleared his throat and withdrew his hand, unable to stop himself from speaking the truth, unable to deny the wound he still fostered: "Because, by now," he sighed, deeply: "We would be screaming at each other. And you would be aiming glass vases at my head."

He leaned back, not withdrawing from her completely, but sticking his hands back under the table. That's what it came down to after all. Fantasy was one thing; reality another. He was crap at relationships and he hadn't improved with age. He'd seen things deteriorate with too many women and couldn't stand to see it happen again. Especially with Kate.

"But you still think about it," she insisted, gently after a long silence.

He met her discerning gaze, her eyelashes falling dimly. He couldn't deny their connection, he couldn't deny he'd missed her. But a large portion of his life experience was still holding him back, and he didn't know how to alter that, when it was so deeply entrenched in his heart.

"So do I," she added softly, holding his eyes.

He could reach out and touch her right now, and he knew Kate wouldn't stop him. He could tell her right now how he felt, all he'd hidden for so many years, and she would probably smile and kiss him. His Katie was once more sitting in front of him, his chance with her had miraculously resurfaced. And, once more, he was watching passively as it slipped irrevocably by.

When he didn't say anything more, Kate dropped her eyes and slid slowly out of the booth, standing on unsteady legs. She was heading for the ladies room, one hand still gripping the table as she turned, when she seemed to reconsider.

Turning back, she faced him squarely, hesitating before telling him in a soft tone: "I'm not a child, Gibbs. I never was." She swayed a little and continued in a voice that held no pretense or reproach: "You don't have to protect me and I won't throw things if I don't get my own way. I am – despite everything," she gave a sad little laugh: "perfectly capable of conducting an adult relationship."

She paused a moment and added, more pointedly: "As are you." Leaning in, she planted both hands on the table and pinned his wary eyes with her druggy gaze: "Question is, -- do you want to? How much do you really think about it? 'Cause I'll make it real easy on you, Gibbs."

She straightened and waved at the dark booth they'd been sitting in, her voice lowered dangerously: "You don't have to take me out or get me drunk. I'll tell you anything you want to know. And I'd give you everything I've got--" she blinked and finished quietly: "If you're up to it."

And with that, she walked away.

Gibbs gulped as he sat back in the booth, watching her move slowly through the rows of tables towards the bathrooms. So much for strategy. He really hadn't seen that coming. Drunken Kate was much more to handle than he thought. She'd pretty much rendered him speechless.

How much of that she had meant, though, and how much she would regret in the morning, he did not know. He didn't have much time to consider it though, or reflect on the opportunity she had just presented him with, because his cell phone trilled and when he answered it, he was told that their prime suspect in the rape and murder of three young women had somehow escaped. He was standing in the doorway, yelling down the line, when Kate reappeared.

"He's on the run," he told her blankly and watched her shift gears at once, pulling out her own cell and beginning to assemble her own team.

"Your place or mine?" she asked, briskly, grabbing her coat and following him out the door.

He was already heading for NCIS headquarters. "Mine," he growled over his shoulder at her, feeling her match his pace, at his side.

TBC….


	6. Chapter 6

Title: The Seven Year Itch

Author: MindyH

Chapter: 6

A/N: Thanks for the feedback everyone. I really appreciate it and don't know what else to say except to keep saying thank you. It's so much more fun when people go along on the ride with you.

* * *

Where was Gibbs? She didn't feel right going ahead until he was there. She peered through her binoculars at the grey shack, overgrown with ivy and hidden by shifting shadows. They'd waited too long already and her team was starting to get restless.

Where the hell was he?

They'd spent the remainder of the previous night and most of the morning attempting to track the man who they had been scheduled to interview the next day. They'd put all their personal issues and inclinations aside, both feeling guilty for having let them take precedence over their work in the first place, furiously guzzling coffee until sunrise and battling the alcohol in their systems which they knew they should not have indulged in.

Kate had left Gibbs slumped at his desk at six am, still trying to find a solid lead and headed to her own office to change her clothes and check her email. It was in one message that she'd received that she found their desired lead – an old holiday home, belonging to the dead mother of their suspect.

Her first call had been to Gibbs and he should've been here long ago. Something was holding her back until he arrived.

From a distance, she heard his voice and felt her body relax as she turned to see him, flashing his badge to one of her agents.

"Where the hell have you been?" she called to him sharply, as he approached through the long grass.

Gibbs sidled up to her, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Thanks for the call," was all he replied, taking a look at the house their suspect had barricaded himself inside of.

"This guy's a psycho, Gibbs," she sighed, edgily and shook her head: "I could use all the backup I can get."

"You got it," he replied with a nod, jabbing a thumb to their right: "I brought my team."

Kate peered past him at a young man and woman standing off to the side, fixing their bulletproof vests. The woman looked youngest, very slim and very pretty, with sharp, intelligent eyes.

"Who's the redhead?" she asked lightly, directly her gaze back to the house.

"Findlay," Gibbs answered, stealing her binoculars and taking a peek: "Probie."

Kate nodded and glared at the younger woman suspiciously as she pulled her bright red ponytail tighter: "She got a first name?" she asked curiously.

"Yep," replied Gibbs, handing her back the binoculars. He leaned closer, looking down at her and adding smoothly: "I don't use it though."

"Well, at least she's smart enough to wear a vest," she retorted, turning to face him and shoving a spare vest against his chest. "Put it on, Gibbs," she ordered: "or you don't get to play with the big boys."

Gibbs grimaced but took the vest from her, his hand closing over hers very briefly. It was only when she was walking away that she heard him mutter defiantly:

"Such a smartass."

"I heard that," she threw over her shoulder, without turning back.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: The Seven Year Itch

Author: MindyH

Rating: T, adult situations here. This chapter is not for the kiddies.

A/N: Thanks again to ALL enjoying this story and taking the time to reveiw. I really appreciate it.

* * *

"Back off. Or I slit her throat."

The FBI took one collective step back.

Gibbs took three steps forward.

"Great," spat the swarthy man disdainfully, shifting backwards with his hostage in tow: "We have a hero in the house."

He stirred uneasily, as Gibbs took another small step forward, his gun aimed level and steady at the man's face.

"I said -- _BACK. OFF_," he ordered, angrily.

Gibbs stopped but stood his ground: "I'm not going anywhere."

He had no idea how the bastard had got his hands on Kate, but he wasn't leaving without her. The flack vest he'd stripped her of lay useless at her feet while the man held a knife at her throat and gun against her belly.

"Then get rid of them," her capturer demanded threateningly, nodding his head at the horde of agents standing with guns poised behind Gibbs: "Go on! Get 'em out of here!"

Gibbs hesitated momentarily, then without turning, yelled over his shoulder: "You heard the man. Stand down."

The FBI didn't budge, not until Kate gave a slight lift of her head, indicating they should obey. Holstering their weapons, they retreated out of the dark house and away from the three figures locked in a stalemate. Only Agent Findlay remained, taking a few steps forward until she stood at her boss' elbow, her weapon trained on the hostage-taker.

"Findlay," Gibbs mumbled lowly, never taking his eyes from the two figures in front of him: "Out. Now."

The young woman looked up at him briefly, then slowly backed off, her gun trained on the scene the whole way. The empty living room was dark and cavernous without all the agents filling it, their every breath and movement echoing around the space.

"So, you wanna rescue the damsel in distress, Hero?" the man muttered, jostling Kate against him and smirking darkly.

"You wanna get out of this alive?" Gibbs countered, his eyes narrowed at the twisted features appearing over Kate's shoulder

Kate shifted carefully in the strong man's grip, grimacing a little in pain. Her body was pulled taut against the taller man, her chest falling heavily, her jaw clenched tight and her eyes glittering with hate.

"'Cause, however this plays out," Gibbs continued in a steely tenor: "-- _we _are walking out of here."

He darted a look at Kate to make sure she knew that. She looked at him piercingly, their eyes connecting intensely across the room.

"The rest is up to you, Lieutenant Smith," he finished evenly, as he examined the man's face for clues of what his state of mind and next move might be: "Want to discuss your options?"

This had to be resolved quickly; the longer this bastard held the power – held Kate – the more dangerous the situation could get.

Smith was impervious. He was not surprised by Gibbs' use of his name and seemed unconcerned by the charges against him and the danger he was in. That, in Gibbs' mind made him more of a threat – he was the type that wanted to go out in a blaze of infamy.

"Can you believe," Smith finally answered offhandedly, evidently more at ease with the other agents now gone: "That _this_ is what they sent after _me_?"

He scoffed to Gibbs skeptically then peered curiously at Kate's face for a moment. "I saw your picture in the paper, sweetheart," he grinned, as Kate tried to twist her head away from him. "I read all about you. Caitlin Todd..." he whispered into her ear, clutching her tighter. He poked his gun into her side and snarled lowly: "You called me a dirtbag."

"You _are _a dirtbag, Smith," growled Gibbs, grinding his teeth and edging a little closer: "Leave her alone."

Smith looked over at him, his eyes lighting up sadistically: "You have an interest in this little thing, Hero?"

He jostled her again, making the knife at her throat draw blood. Kate bit her lip to stifle a whimper and the fury in Gibbs' gut began to boil.

Smith continued, tauntingly: "You like something a little younger? Huh, old man?" He turned his gaze back on his catch. Kate's nostrils flared indignantly as she struggled to maintain her composure, her body stiff and defiant against his captivity.

"Feisty one, isn't she?" he murmured, pulling her back against him and running his eyes over the front of her body. "Personally," he mused smugly: "I like them… a little more… _submissive_."

"Like the three women you killed?" Gibbs questioned, bluntly, trying to divert the man's attention from the woman in his arms: "Were they _submissive enough_ when you forced yourself on them? Did they beg you to let them live?"

"I loooove it," he moaned breathily into Kate's ear: "when they beg."

Kate's face hardened further, masking her revulsion and contempt, her breath coming harsh and heavy, as cold eyes scanned her tense expression with malevolent delight. Pressing the gun into her side, he dragged the tip of the knife down her throat, over her chest and to the opening of her shirt, slipping the blade beneath the first button of her shirt.

He glanced up at Gibbs with a maniacal leer. "Wanna see, Hero?" he whispered coarsely, holding Gibbs' fierce gaze.

Kate's face dropped in alarm but Smith swiftly nudged the tip of the knife blade up under her chin.

"Eyes up, Caitlin," he ordered, warningly, forcing her head back and to the side. Gibbs darted a look at her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes, focusing steadily on the ceiling. Her chest shuddered shakily as the knife lowered again, grazing her skin and besmirching it with a violent red scratch.

"Tell me, Hero," Smith murmured indifferently, as he slowly sliced at the top closure of her shirt: "Are you a breast man or a leg man? Hmm?"

Gibbs clenched his jaw, refusing to respond. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on the lieutenant, his trigger finger twitching edgily. Smith smirked, reading the signs of tension in the other man.

He looked down scornfully at Kate's conservative pant suit: "Me, I like a bit of leg. Hate it when they cover it up."

He abruptly knifed open another button of her shirt, looking down at her exposed roundness: "These aren't bad though, honey," he remarked crudely, tracing the plunge of her bra with the blade. "What do you think, old man?" he asked callously, pulling apart her shirt and presenting her roughly to Gibbs: "Bet you haven't seen anything like this in a while, huh?"

His eyes glittered with power as he carried on stroking her bra carelessly, his body pressed up close behind her and his saliva spitting onto her white shirt as he hissed at Gibbs over her shoulder: "I think the good FBI agent has been holding out on us, don't you, Hero?" he grumbled to Gibbs slyly.

He paused a moment then, without dropping his gaze from the man opposite, ruthlessly sliced through the strap of Kate's flimsy bra, causing it to wilt on her. "Now -- would you say these are Caitlin's best feature?" he continued conversationally, peering down at her chest for a moment. "Or --" he murmured darkly, reaching down to deliberately stroke the zip of her pants with the knife blade: "Or do you want to see what else little Caitlin has to offer?" he drawled eagerly: "Huh? Tell me, old man. You wanna see what it takes to make the feisty little thing beg?"

"You get off on this, Lieutenant Smith?" Gibbs demanded harshly, still refusing to let his eyes drop: "You like humiliating women?"

Kate's head lowered again, her cheeks red with shame and wrath, but the knife came up under her chin once more.

"_I said--_"Smith grit against the skin of her cheek, pressing the point into her throat until it dripped with her blood: "_Eyes. Up_."

She cried out painfully, her eyes closing over as she titled her head back, exposing herself to his abuse.

He roughly pressed the sharp edge down through the last remaining closures covering her, the shirt gapping on her body obscenely: "Take a look, Hero – I'll bet you're a breast man," he muttered maliciously.

"Wow," breathed Gibbs derisively, refusing to give him the slightest satisfaction: "Your mother must have done a real number on you."

Smith froze, his eyes flickering with barely restrained rage: "What do you know about her?" he drawled contemptuously.

"This was her place, right?" Gibbs continued evenly, the Lieutenant's glaring reaction not lost on him: "Was she sadistic, too? Like you?"

"You shut up about her," the other man warned, turning his gun on Gibbs.

"Your victims all look like her," Gibbs persisted coolly, watching his grip on Kate's gradually loosen as his focus shifted and waned: "You think we wouldn't pick up on that?"

"No, they didn't!" he argued hotly, his eyes darting about in panic.

Kate's eyes met Gibbs' – that was half a confession. Gibbs' gaze held little satisfaction, but he took the opportunity to send her the smallest of nods, telling her to make her move while he was distracted.

Kate glanced at the weapon trained on Gibbs and stayed where she was.

"They all had blonde hair," Gibbs pointed out, his voice rising as insanity began to emerge in the other man's features: "Like your mother. And green eyes," he persisted, tenaciously: "Like your mother."

"Cut it out, Gibbs," Kate finally spoke out in an ominous tone, trying to prevent him from deliberately drawing the man's fire.

"Shut up, Kate," he commanded sharply, still focused on the increasingly agitated man in front of him.

"Don't do this!" she cried, nervously, straining against her imprisonment and ignoring the sting of the blade at her throat.

"Shut up, shut up both of you! Just SHUT UP!" Smith roared, loosing his self-control and swinging his gun between the two of them, unsure who to target.

Kate took the opening, striking back with her elbow into his abdomen, making him buckle over her in pain. He yanked her back with the knife at her throat and fired aimlessly three shots one after the other.

The second caught Gibbs in the arm, causing him to jolt and fall to the floor. Kate repeated the blow to the gut, twisting suddenly and pitching her left fist up under her capturer's chin. Blood sprayed out of his nose as his head flew back and the weapon dropped from his hand. She grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, forcing him to his knees and then to the ground.

Groaning in agony, Gibbs stumbled to his feet, clutching his injured arm with his hand as agents swarmed the room, in a frenzy of noise and action, encircling Kate as she handcuffed the man face down on the floor.

"Since you asked," Gibbs muttered, his voice strained with pain but impelled by victory: "Kate's best feature," he told Smith, standing in the dirt by his face: "is her left hook."

"Get him out of here," Kate ordered, rising off him and turning to Gibbs with concerned eyes: "And get the paramedics in here NOW!"

Smith was hauled away in the bustle as Kate stepped closer to him, swearing under her breath.

"I'm fine," Gibbs told her, gritting his teeth against the white-hot pain and with his free hand, pulling at her blood-stained shirt to conceal her from prying eyes.

Kate seemed unconcerned that he could clearly see her through the opening, reaching out to him with both hands, one touching his chest, the other resting lightly on his bloody hand. She looked up at him with big, wet eyes and he gazed down at her a moment in dazed relief.

His eyes ran carefully over her; her hair tousled and face streaked, the angry marks on her chest and the blood drying on her flushed skin. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but sneak a lingering look at her now; her delicate curves and womanly shape partly visible beneath her ripped shirt. But then, he'd just been shot for this woman, he mused dimly—that had to count for something.

The paramedics arrived and forced him down on the gurney. Although this was more minor than his other experiences suffering a gun shot wound, it still hurt like hell. He could feel his body rapidly sinking into shock, his temperature lowering and his vision wavering.

Kate followed the gurney to the truck, her brow creased and her arms folded across her ruined shirt. She swept her hair out of her eyes with her fingertips, inadvertently painting her forehead with his spent blood.

As the ambulance doors were being shut, she was trying to tell him something. There was too much noise and confusion. People were trying to take care of her injuries, ask her questions. The medic was giving him pain meds and telling him to lie back, he couldn't focus on her properly.

From a distance, he thought he saw her mouthe the words "Thank You" before his body shut down and his eyes closed over.


	8. Chapter 8

Title: The Seven Year Itch

Author: MindyH

See chapter one for details.

* * *

She'd been there for nearly eleven hours, waiting for Gibbs to open his eyes. Everyone had told her to go home and get some rest, everyone had told her he was going to be fine. But Kate stubbornly refused to leave his side.

He'd asked for her when he'd woken the first time but she hadn't been there. She'd been facing an FBI panel hastily convened to investigate the siege at the holiday house. They seemed less concerned with how an NCIS agent got shot and more with how the lead FBI agent got captured in the first place.

She was in shock herself, worried and exhausted, the events seemingly a blur in her memory. She tried to emphasize the fact that no one in the end got hurt and that Lieutenant Smith had eventually been apprehended.

"Thanks to Agent Gibbs," one of the panelists had pointed out reproachfully.

"Yes," she'd confirmed composedly: "Thanks to Agent Gibbs."

When she finally arrived at the hospital, she'd been told that Gibbs' surgery had gone very well, but she was denied access to him. She flashed her badge at every doctor and nurse that came at her with a pathetic excuse, terrorizing the staff until she was granted entry.

Now he'd been moved to a private room in ICU, where he remained heavily drugged and non-responsive. Ducky had been in to see him, of course, and Abby had visited for a while. The two women had sat on the end of the hospital bed, exchanging Jethro Gibbs anecdotes and giggling over the infatuations they'd both harbored for their irritable boss at different times in their working history.

Abby was just as cheery and cheeky as she'd always been and had been happy to take Kate's relieved mind off blaming herself. They'd chatted easily, catching up on each other's lives and recalling the old days.

Abby had insisted on bringing her some dinner from the cafeteria before she left about an hour ago and one of the few nurses who was not scared of her had provided her with some weak, warm coffee.

The hospital room was cold and bleak, washed with the last, lingering light of the long day. Kate moved away from the window where she'd been watching the sun set. She dragged the single chair over to the bedside and wrapped a light blanket around her shoulders, as she curled up awkwardly in the seat.

Gibbs' heart monitor beeped beside her, his chest continued to rise and fall, his wounded arm bandaged tight and thick. She'd memorized the pattern of the hospital gown he wore and every crease of the sheets by now. Her eyes drooped wearily and her body began to unwind. But whenever she closed her eyes, images assailed her of the nightmare that they'd endured at the holiday home.

In fact, in the last few empty hours, she'd been rethinking and reliving her entire relationship with this enigmatic, unpredictable man.

Kate had tried with all her might to _not _think of her former boss when she'd left NCIS. It had been one of the hardest decisions she'd ever had to make in her life, and she'd told him that, when she handed him her resignation. She had been seeking a fresh new life for herself, devoid of his censure and his demands and his silence and his reserve.

But if she's honest with herself, she never really succeeded in forgetting him. Kate always felt that things were never fully settled between them, never completely finished. Some part of her still felt intrinsically and irrevocably connected to Jethro Gibbs through the years, despite his cold goodbye, despite his absence at her wedding, and despite his always temperamental character.

Kicking off her shoes, Kate shifted uncomfortably in the unyielding chair, trying halfheartedly to find some rest. In her mind's eye, she saw Gibbs' expression when he looked at her across that long, grey room; she saw his determination and his concern. She saw his blood when he suddenly went down.

She couldn't help but think that if Smith had simply taken two seconds to aim or if Gibbs had moved one second later, he might not have been breathing beside her as he now was. He may very well have been lost to her forever.

The idea was more than she could bare and she opened her eyes quickly to assure herself of his safety.

Moving closer in her chair, she reached out with one hand to lightly brush up and down his arm, the rhythmic gesture and the warmth of his skin comforting her somewhat. Her head bowed gradually, resting softly on the side of the bed by his elbow as her eyes slipped slowly shut again.

A soft grunt rose from the quiescent body beside her and her eyes snapped open once more to see Gibbs floating back to consciousness.

"Hey," she whispered softly, rising swiftly from the chair and drawing near.

She took a seat on the edge of the bed as his eyelids fluttered open and his throat crackled dryly. She poured him a drink from the jug at his bedside and held it to his lips.

"Here, drink this," she urged quietly as Gibbs' able hand came up to weakly grip the cup, covering hers as he drank thirstily. When he'd downed the water, she poured another in case he wanted more and left it by the bed.

"Kate..?" he gulped, following her movements with a groggy gaze: "You okay?" he sighed, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Yes," she smiled tearily, her voice unable to manage more than a whisper. Her brow crumpled as she fought the sudden lump of emotion in her throat: "Yeah, Gibbs, I'm fine."

He lifted his hand and it swayed in mid-air, trying to find her, eventually patting sloppily against her cheek. She covered it with her own, holding his palm in place and stroking soothingly with her other hand up and down the inside of his arm.

"He hurt you…" Gibbs mumbled, squinting at the red marks on her neck and chest.

"I'm fine," she assured him quietly: "I'll heal." One tear escaped, running down her cheek and catching in his palm: "So will you," she told him resolutely.

Gibbs' thumb swiped at the wet streak on her cheek and her eyes slipped shut, savoring his touch and rubbing her face affectionately into his large, rough palm. She had no words for the incredible strength and range of emotion she felt. This man – this beloved, amazing man – had saved her life. And he'd done it without a second thought for his own.

His eyes closed over as she held his hand in both of hers, tenderly kissing the knobly knuckles at the base of each of his fingers. Gibbs' mouth turned up slightly, as she turned over his hand and lingeringly placed a reverent kiss in the center of his palm.

His eyes were closed but his thumb grazed gently over her lips. She repeated the kiss, as his face relaxed into unconsciousness again and his hand became heavy in her own. His heart monitor beeped softly, as she sat for a long time, watching him rest, with his hand held in hers at her breast.

Finally, she moved back to her chair, never letting go of his big, bulky paw. The room was pitch black when her head dropped back to the edge of the bed and she slowly drifted off to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: The Seven Year Itch

Author: MindyH

Chapter: 9

See chapter one for details.

* * *

He heard a soft creak and turned to see Kate standing poised on the third to last step of his basement stairs in a crimson red dress, a Mona Lisa smile lifting her painted lips.

She held a bag of Chinese take-out in one hand, while the other clutched to her hip a bottle of champagne, topped by two paper cups. She tossed her head, lightly, her hair flowing lavishly about her face, her eyes sparkling at him as he drank in every fragment of her appearance.

The decadent dress looked glossy and delicate, generously low-cut, forming a deep 'v' at the front which exhibited an almost indecent excess of pure, plump cleavage, scattered delicately with the smatter of freckles he'd forgotten she had. It glided softly over her hips and thighs, ending just below her knees; and there were those wonderful legs again, slim and shapely, strong and elegant.

The vibrant red shimmered even in his dull basement and brought out the depth of her eyes, the shade of her hair and the iridescent hue of her fair skin. It all combined to create an effect that virtually robbed him of breath, thought and memory.

He wasn't entirely sure that he was not imagining things though – after all, he was still on a fair bit of pain medication and many of his Kate-centric fantasies had started out just like this. His eager mind was already skipping ahead to where they all inevitably concluded.

He could think of a dozen good reasons why Kate might visit him tonight, but only one for why she would visit him wearing a dress like that.

When he'd finished examining her and remembered that he had legs, he moved slowly across the dusty floor towards her. Kate's eyes followed him as he took one step up, then another, facing her and standing just below her, their bodies a mere breath apart.

Silently, slowly, he took the bag of food from her hand, then stepped to one side. Still watching her face, he put out his good hand, wordlessly inviting her into his underground lair. Kate's dark eyes glinted at him as she took one step down so that they stood side by side.

"You should lock your door," she murmured, slipping past him, one eyebrow raised archly. "Anyone could walk in," she commented, sauntering across to his workbench, with an audacious swing in her hips.

"So I see," he noted, quietly, putting his head to one side as he openly admired the way she walked in her high heels and the mesmerizing sway of her ass beneath the silk.

He set the Chinese down by his boat, watching her every move from afar, the food tempting his nostrils but not his eyes. He thought it wise to keep a little distance. Otherwise, his irresponsible hands would go touching the bare skin of her back or the dip of her waist or the length of her arm, and he knew he wouldn't be capable of doing a damn thing to stop it.

Luckily, one arm was still strapped inert into a sling, so that took care of part of his problem. Now, if he could just disable his lascivious thoughts in the same way.

"What's the occasion?" he asked her as she stood at his bench, turned away from him, working the stopper out of the mouth of the champagne bottle.

"Well…" she sighed, biting her lip and rising onto her toes: "I received my final decree today."

The cork dislodged loudly and he watched as she poured the bubbly into the two paper cups. She turned towards him, one in each hand, and a slightly nervous look in her eyes.

"I am officially a free woman," she added, quietly, her gaze holding his across the hollow space.

She seemed to be waiting on his reaction and Gibbs' gut began to vibrate with excitement. Kate was free. Kate was safe. And Kate was here, back in his life, somehow in his basement, once more offering him a simple but remarkable choice.

"That's good news," he commented carefully with a rasping voice.

Kate made her way over to him and handed him a cup. "I thought so," she replied softly.

Gibbs raised his cup: "Congratulations," he murmured and tipped it at her: "To you, Kate."

She gave him a little smile, and their eyes locked as both raised the liquid to their lips to drink. Gibbs hadn't had champagne in years; it tasted sweet and soft, compared to his usual scotch or bourbon and he wondered if that's how she would taste if he kissed her now. The woman had no right wandering around in a dress like that if she didn't expect to be kissed and kissed thoroughly, he reasoned privately, his infamous restraint at long last admitting defeat.

"And--" Gibbs added, swiftly, taking a deliberate step closer: "To Rule Number Twelve."

She glanced to one side. "Never date a co-worker?" she questioned, perplexed.

"Mmm," he hummed and telling her offhandedly: "I'm putting it into retirement."

"Really?" she murmured with a sly smile.

"Yup," he nodded and clinked cups with her, watching her reaction closely.

"Good riddance," Kate remarked dryly and took another sip in approval.

Gibbs quickly downed the last of the intoxicating juice, then unceremoniously scrunched the cup and threw it aside. Reaching out with his able hand, he seized her around the neck and pulled her forward, her body colliding with his as his mouth dropped to capture her champagne lips in a fiery kiss.

She let out a gasp of both surprise and pleasure, opening her mouth to his exploration. Her hands came up to touch his chest, stoking him through his shirt and caressing the wounded wing that rested trapped and helpless between them in the sling.

He couldn't get her close enough. The hand cupping her head allowed him to press her mouth against his and swirl his tongue over her lips, but he still wanted more. To compensate for his other hand being out of commission, he spun her against the side of his boat, pinning her with his body and allowing his eager hand to drop over her face, sampling her cheek, her neck, feeling around the outer edge of one breast and down to her waist. Her sheer dress bunched in his grasp as he felt her body openly for the first time, smoothing his hand over the slope of her waist and sliding it around her back to pull her up flush against him.

She felt so small and soft and sexy, and tasted so sweet as he tugged at her lips with abandon. Kate's hands were on his face, holding and caressing as she met his kiss with a corresponding enthusiasm, moaning into his mouth as he stroked her tongue with his own.

Gradually, they parted, eyes closed and breaths panting, still holding each other close. The whole world seemed to tilt on its axis for one insane moment.

"Wow," Kate breathed, trembling softly in his arms.

"Yeah," he replied, huskily, cracking open his eyes and clearing his throat: "You can say that again."

He looked down at her as she slowly opened her eyes, druggy with desire, her lipstick smeared red over her lips and her cheeks flushed pink. She looked incredible. He wanted to kiss her again. And again. And again. And--

"You know, Gibbs," she whispered, breathily, two fingers fiddling idly with the buttons on his shirt: "Technically -- we're not co-workers anymore anyway," she pointed out, flicking her eyes up to look at him.

"We would be if you came back to NCIS," he replied carefully.

She put her head to one side, asking ironically: "Is that a job offer?"

He laughed slightly in remembrance. "Could be," he shrugged, telling her smoothly: "I could make it happen."

She didn't need to know that he'd already made some enquiries. She was one of the best that they'd had; he knew NCIS would welcome her back. The two of them probably wouldn't work on the same team, but that wouldn't matter.

"I know you could," she smiled at him, her eyes examining his face. "And it _is_ tempting…" she admitted hesitantly.

Her years at NCIS had been some of the most fulfilling and fun of her life. She'd often regretted leaving. Working with the FBI was different, more controlled, less varying. But in her short time there, she had managed to establish herself well as an agent of skill, ingenuity and promise.

She was aware, that that was in large part due to the training she'd received from her NCIS mentor and boss. Nevertheless they both knew that she couldn't all of a sudden leave the FBI to take on another position at NCIS as swiftly as she had at the beginning of their association. Everything was very different now, including her.

"I'll think about it," she promised, quietly, with a sincere nod.

"Good," he murmured, and tucked her hair behind her ear: "Then… can I tempt you with another offer?"

Kate's eyes grew wide and expectant, her voice becoming husky with feeling: "What would that be?"

Gibbs ducked his head, leaning in so his lips grazed the shell of her ear. He paused, breathing softly as he recalled her inebriated words to him in the bar the night before he saw her life put in danger one more time than he discovered he could withstand.

"_Everything_," he finally whispered lowly, letting his lips graze her ear as he spoke.

"Everything?" she repeated shakily, offering up the perfumed flesh of her neck to his soft seduction.

He planted a wet kiss on the fascinating freckle that adorned the pale slope of her neck. "_Everything,_" he affirmed, without hesitation. Her long hair caught on his stubble as he moved his mouth to cover hers. "Anything," he whispered, nipping at her lips repeatedly, and feeling hers respond in kind. "I love you," he told her softly, inciting a tiny moan from her in response: "I always have."

"In that case…" she mumbled faintly, as her arms wrapped round his neck: "I accept," she whispered and kissed him again, long and deep.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: The Seven Year Itch

Author: Mindy

Chapter: 10

Rating: T, adult themes.

Spoilers: "Yankee White" "Sub Rosa".

Disclaimer: Characters are not my property. No copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: KIBBS AU.

* * *

She was lying in Gibbs' arms, in Gibbs' basement, in Gibbs' boat. And Kate couldn't have been happier if they'd been sailing on an emerald bay, gazing at a starlit sky.

They had kissed for an eternity, her slight frame feeling overpowered wedged between Gibbs' strong body and the hard, smooth surface of his creation. She'd felt his hair in her fingers and his chest beneath his shirt just the way she'd always wanted to, while Gibbs' large paws stroked and clutched at her body through the thin, sleek material covering her.

The passion that exploded between them after so many years of waiting and wanting, denial and separation threatened to overcome them very quickly, and they clawed at each other's clothes without thought.

But Gibbs, whispering her name against her heated skin, had stopped and suggested they take a time out. He had helped her climb into the boat, which now sat upright and imposing, on two supportive rails, complete except for mast and sails.

They had eaten their dinner, sitting close in the deep curve of the vessel, talking softly and kissing each other at every opportunity. And now, they'd settled back, with Kate's head on Gibbs' shoulder, as she lay on her side, snuggled into his body, one arm slung over his chest which he stroked lightly with the tips of his fingers. It was not the most comfortable place she'd ever rested, but she had no inclination to move.

It was all a little surreal, and very over-whelming. And yet, so totally and completely natural. She felt so comfortable in his arms, so at ease in his presence. She was entirely secure in his feelings for her and so grateful to be given this second chance.

After all these years, she mused bittersweetly, all it took was a red dress and one bottle of bubbly to break down Gibbs and make him her man. Well, that – and a seven year absence, a night of drunken honesty and a psychopath with a knife and a gun.

Still, they somehow made it here – to where they'd always meant to be.

"What's she called?" she asked softly, breaking the long, comfortable silence.

She felt Gibbs look down at her and tilted her head up to meet his gaze.

"Take a look," he murmured, and nodded towards the crest of the boat.

He watched her move out of his grasp to the opposite end of the craft, leaning over the edge and reading upside down:

"_The Philadelpia_…?"

She righted herself, turning back to him with a questioning look. She knew it could have a dozen different meanings, but she wondered whether the moniker had anything to do with the cruise they had taken on a sub called _The Philadelphia_, when she'd first began to work for him.

It had been the first time since she'd joined NCIS that they had run an investigation together and she was, at once, pleased, confused and worried to discover that the tension that she had felt developing between them during their association on board Air Force One was still there and still strong. It had been a very significant case for her, their forced isolation and obvious compatibility making a deep impression on her.

Since they'd been working together, she and Gibbs had deliberately been trying to deny and defeat any and all possibility or attraction that existed between them. But when that submarine had surfaced, throwing her into her boss' arms, she'd realized that it didn't matter what either of them did or did not do. There was something between them that they simply could not help or refute or overcome or even ignore.

And looking up into his face right up close, she could see without a single doubt, that he knew it too. She'd glimpsed the reluctant admission of the truth in the depths of his blue eyes.

It was then that she had realized that what was growing between them was more than just a superficial and transitory attraction. It was a deep and abiding connection which came to mean increasingly more to her as time passed.

It had made her nights restless for years afterwards, thinking about what they were both missing out on by adhering to the pattern of fear and denial and dishonesty. He never knew how the years of expectation and disappointment, desire and jealousy, anguish and unrequited yearning had worn on her, until she simply could not take his rejection anymore and walked away.

Or maybe, she reconsidered, looking into his eyes now – maybe, he really did know, after all.

She sunk into a seat at the end of the boat, her head tipped to one side in reflection: "You know, Gibbs," she began gently: "I never got to tell you your best feature."

Gibbs looked up at the ceiling and rubbed his chin: "Ah, well… I know it's not my hair," he joked lightly.

She smiled quietly: "Your hair is nice," she nodded: "but that's not what I meant."

He sat up a little and looked at her cagily, commenting: "I'm almost afraid to ask, Kate."

She rose, stepping over to him carefully, and lowered herself so that she sat beside him with her legs curled to one side. His hand immediately went to her knee, smoothing over the red satin. She watched his face for a moment, then picked up his hand and kissed it, just like she had in the hospital, when he lay unconscious with a gunshot wound he earned by protecting her.

"You never give up," she told him in an almost whisper: "That's your best feature."

One corner of his mouth turned up: "Many would say that's a failing," he remarked cynically. He could think of half a dozen women off the top of his head that had told him that he had no idea when to call it quits, when to let go.

But he had never, not in seven long years, given up entirely on the dream of Kate Todd. He had never, even when she had, given up on the truth of who she was. And she knew it too.

"Not me," she shook her head decisively, reaching out to caress his jaw: "I love that about you."

"You do?" he murmured, after a short pause, as he watched her face absorbedly.

One eyebrow quirked gently at him as she met his gaze: "Hm," she smiled, then raised her hand to comb through his hair. She bit her lip and added playfully: "And of course, your hair comes a very close second."

Gibbs studied her for a moment then reached up to cup her face with one hand.

"C'mere…" he urged, softly, drawing her face down to his. "I want to make you say 'wow' again," he mused wryly, his eyes holding hers as she moved closer.

"You sure you're up for it, Gibbs?" she teased, gently, stretching out beside him in the deep wooden concave.

His hand slid over her hip, pulling her closer, as his eyes drifted up and down her reclining frame: "I'm up for everything," he told her calmly: "that you can dish out, Katie."

Kate smiled, her eyes glowing eagerly in anticipation: "Then give me your best shot," she murmured softly, gradually lying back as he moved over her. "Go ahead, Gibbs," she whispered readily, her arms winding around his body as he covered her completely: "'Wow' me."

"With pleasure…" he mumbled hazily, his mouth sealing over hers once more in an infinite, irrepressible kiss.

END.

A/N: Thank you toALL who read and pariticularly reveiwed. I really appreciate it. Long live KIBBS.


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